An Idiotic Notion
by Nena et al
Summary: Verena has been sent to the infamous World Academy; if only she would actually go to school. Her view of the school and an old enemy change thanks to a new acquaintance and gender confusion ensues. A crack-ish Poland/Fem!Switzerland Gakuen AU.


_The author here. I'd just like to point out that people who believe canon is best may have some difficulty accepting this story, for it says that female Switzerland, Verena, is the sister of Vash. If you think this should not count as true fan fiction because of plot inconsistencies, please say so in a review. This was originally written as a school assignment, and so sacrifices had to be made (such as no yaoi), and to make it work, I had to throw in some details of my own. That said, the story shall begin._

World Academy is a very strange school. It is, by no means, a place for geniuses. In fact, it seems more like a gathering place for delinquents. Honour students, top of their class, have been denied, yet Mafiosi-in-training, militiamen, people known internationally for their deeds, and those with other unmentionable circumstances loiter freely about within its pristine marble halls. These aren't in the obvious majority, though. The majority, I thought when I first came to the school, is a bunch of idiots. Now I know; yes, everyone here is an idiot, but an idiot in their own way. Whether I am an idiot in my own way as well, I am unsure.

A month after my eighteenth birthday, also a month after I was enlisted as a volunteer in the Swiss militia, I received a letter from the school. I thought nothing of it at first. I assumed it was some sort of opportunity for my brother, Vash, who had recently been on the run from the German police for something about shooting at Italian tourists. It was not until that evening when my adoptive little sister, Lilli, pointed out that I had been accepted and encouraged me to go. She would be able to live on her own, she insisted. She "was already fifteen, after all." I should go, I really should, because I'd meet all sorts of new people, and it would give me a fresh start, and… It seemed to me that she just didn't want me around, but I agreed to give it a chance.

Two weeks later, there I stood, gazing in awe at four-story-high pearly walls, elaborately but not gaudily decorated. It probably looked very different two centuries ago, when it was used as a home for Italian nobility. Arthur Kirkland—the student council president from England—stood beside me, looking proudly upon the structure as if he had been part of the building team.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he chuckled, grinning.

"Waste of money, wasn't it?" I replied in accented English. Hey, when you're raised in some back alley in Berne, money matters. Other than Lilli, it was the only thing that had mattered to me.

The guide frowned, but continued on with his tour, leading me to the important places such as the principal's office and my classrooms. I only heard half of what he said over the bustle of students pouring into their respective rooms from the courtyard, and for the most part I was merely observing my future classmates. I felt out of place as usual, my emerald military style uniform a strange contrast against the purple jackets and black pants of the men and the white sweaters and checkered red skirts of the girls. I swore an oath to somehow get the men's uniform. There was no way I would wear miniskirts that were against most schools' dress codes.

By chance—some cruel twist of fate, perhaps—I glimpsed upon a familiar face moving into my homeroom and nearly blanched. Could it perhaps be him, that nightmare from my past? Maybe it wasn't; no, it definitely was. His thin-framed glasses were new, but I could tell from his dark chocolate-coloured hair, those rare violet eyes, and most of all, his aura. No one else would manage to keep such an elegant, suave, _pompous_ air about them in a place like this.

"I'm going home for today. I don't feel well," I excused myself. It wasn't exactly a lie, as demonstrated by the sickly grimace on my face.

"You can rest in the nurse's office for a while if you'd like," Arthur offered, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"No, I think I should go home," I denied, shaking my head. "It's nothing much, I'll be fine." I didn't want to stay in the same wing as that jerk, let alone the same building. Before the Englishman could get a word in, I turned to leave. I didn't plan on coming back, either.

"Vash?"

No; no, this couldn't be happening. I hadn't heard that silky-smooth voice in so long, yet I knew it was him. It was silkier than I remembered, and the realization that I had immediately noted such made me scowl. I paused, willing myself not to turn around to look at its source. If I did, I doubted my will would be strong enough to resist its urges. We had last met years ago, but things were different now. As every day since the day we had parted, I had an SIG Mosquito in my bag and the hatred of him in my mind, and the two weren't unrelated.

"Vash, don't try to hide it," the voice demanded sternly. "It is you, isn't it?"

He couldn't reach me. This much I knew without looking. He was inside the classroom now, trying to push through the flood of incoming students, but he always had been a weakling. I only walked away from my puzzled guide with determined strides. No one tried to stop me, and I never looked back.

The day moved past me like molasses. I rented a cheap apartment off-campus, less expensive than living in the school, and unpacked the few belongings I had brought with me in no time at all. Thanks to Lilli's constant observation of me while I packed, in an attempt to stop me from bringing anything that might be illegal, I had only managed to sneak in one cartridge for the Mosquito and two of my old uniforms. My little sister had carefully selected everything else. That meant, in my mind, that I would be stuck with two pairs of pants and many, many skirts, and I was right. She had somehow managed to convince me to bring the most girlish clothing she had ever made or bought for me, making me proud of my decision to not share a room.

Other than clothing, ammo, and the Mosquito, I barely had anything. There was a badly beaten mattress in the far corner, some rather ill-gotten wealth in a lockbox beside it, and a small stack of workbooks and English learning guides that I doubt would ever be used. It wasn't bad, I thought. It was more than I had had before Vash and I adopted Lilli as one of our own, a street-dweller. What I had left was far superior, however; an apartment room of our own, not even dilapidated in the least, with unbroken windows that actually looked out upon the better side of Geneva. We had been able to afford it the whole time, but we never even considered that we needed such luxuries.

Time passed as I looked out my own cracked window, and sleep eventually came. At six in the morning, a knock at my door awoke me. It was quiet at first, but it grew more rapid and louder in volume. Still half-asleep, I grabbed the pistol at the foot of my bed—a force of habit—and sort of wobbled to the doorway. I could see through the peephole that it was just the student council president. He glanced around worriedly, probably worried about being seen in the bad part of town. Putting on an irritable air, I opened the door for him.

"What do you want?" I murmured sleepily.

"I came to… I…" He seemed a bit taken aback by something as he stared down at my practically nonexistent chest. It was one of two things. Either he hadn't realized that I was a girl—I wouldn't be surprised; half the people at my old school thought I was a guy—or…

"Oh," I merely replied. It was my turn to be at a loss for words. I had somehow, through a stroke of stupidity, answered the door while wearing the pyjamas Lilli made for me. They were pink, they were frilly, and they were absolutely the shade of my face at the moment. "My sister made these for me, so, um…"

"I see…" Arthur acknowledged. I'm not sure if he really accepted the explanation, but I doubt it. "I came to ask if you were feeling better."

"Not really. I'll be staying home from school today, too."

"I see," he replied, giving a brisk nod. He shifted awkwardly, at a loss for what to say. Turning, he gave a slight wave as he began to walk away. "I hope you'll be feeling well soon. Good day."

Glad to be out of the uncomfortable situation, I quickly shut the door. If he was smart, he would never speak of that again. In any case, I felt assured now that I could no longer go back to school. It's not like I had ever really attended school, so there wouldn't be much of a change from my daily life. The problem was Lilli. She expected me to get an education, though she realized I was self-educated to the point of a graduate. I didn't want to make her move her to check up on me, but I found no other option. I needed a reputation other than the one I would surely get the moment I set foot in those halls, and I would have to form it like I did my former reputation: on the streets.

Unfortunately, family had been my motivation for putting up with life on the streets. I desperately needed money, food, and shelter for Lilli. Even before we had picked her up in the back alleys, I endured it all for Vash. Now that I had lost Lilli, everything seemed hopeless. I couldn't go to school, I couldn't go home, and I wouldn't last long in the streets of this town infested with Mafiosi. I was disgusted by the thought that I might have to get an ordinary job. I loved money and I was surprisingly good at math, but I doubted anyone would think of hiring some ruffian as a banker, and I refused to be one of the many Mafiosi or fast-food workers, predominant occupations in the area I lived in.

Time passed all too quickly that day. Half the day was spent merely considering my options. In the end, I only got frustrated and went out to get air. I wore my uniform, of course; no one could see me in any of my other clothes. For hours, I wandered around town, noting any place that might employ someone like me—there weren't many. On my way home, the bell of the academy only two blocks away tolled fifteen times for dismissal. I could hear the flood of students leaving before I could see them. There was a low rumble, then shouts and conversations in raised voices. Before too many could see me, I turned into a side street that was arranged in a strange pattern of condominiums and houses. They obviously all belonged to students. They were of all shapes and sizes, and they appeared like an out-of-order rainbow. Now many of the residents left their groups, dissipating into side streets such as the one I had foolishly gone down. I say foolishly because what happened next was mere coincidence, but a terrible, terrible coincidence it was.

Luckily, it was not my old "friend" that I encountered first, but a boy appearing a few years younger than me. His thin frame and gait bordered on feminine. His long blond hair seemed a violation of one rule or another, but he also did not wear the regulation uniform. He wore the pants, yes, but instead of a jacket was the beige sweater top of the girls' uniform. He walked next to a taller brown-haired boy about his age. The latter seemed a bit annoyed with the former, but the blond couldn't tell. Seemingly to distract him, the brunet pointed at me. The blond nodded a bit bashfully and the two approached. Mind you, I had been trying to walk away, but they were determined. The blond, quite outgoing moments before, merely hid behind the other.

"_Sveiki_!" the taller boy greeted cheerfully. I didn't know the language at all, but I really didn't have to. The boy soon switched from his language—what I later discovered to be Lithuanian—to English. "You're a new student, aren't you?"

"_Guten Tag_," I replied back in my native German. "I was supposed to be starting at the academy today, yes. There has been a mistake, however, and it seems that I won't be attending. My name is Verena Zwingli, and you are?"

"I'm Toris Lorinaitis. The person cowering behind me is Feliks Łukasiewicz."

"Toris, _zamknij się_! I'm totally not cowering!" the boy named Feliks protested in Polish, still a bit timid. "I'm just, like … not good at talking with new people, okay?"

I was nearly taken aback by the boy's speech. Somehow, I regained by composure, though I surely had a look of puzzlement on my visage. I had no doubt that he was male from his voice, but he spoke like a valley girl! There really were some strange people in the school I almost went to. I became increasingly proud of my decision to opt out of its classes.

"Sure, sure," Toris sighed, shaking his head. "So, why can't you go to World Academy?"

"There were … complications," I answered, glancing away guiltily. My real reason wasn't so innocent. That glance also showed me that my reason was coming directly my way. Of course he had to live on _this_ street, and of course he had seen me. I knew I had to wrap up the conversation quickly. "I had a few misconceptions about the place, and I'm reconsidering my decision. Pardon my rudeness, but now I must go."

"Ah, can't you stay for a bit? Feliks made too much paluszki yesterday. If you'd like to come over, that would be—"

"No," I denied vehemently. The idiot was barely meters away, and I was becoming visibly anxious. "I really need to be somewhere."

It was too late. Said idiot called out a protest, causing Feliks and Toris to notice him as well. They wouldn't let me get away so easily. The snob wore his typical annoyed face, the type that would make children cry for fear of a beating. The two I had just met seemed surprised to see their classmate like this and exchanged a few whispers.

"Vash!" the newcomer cried, stomping right up to me. "Why have you been avoiding me? You remember me, don't you?"

"Good to see you again, too, Roderich," I greeted through gritted teeth with a fake smile plastered on my face. "Of course I remembered. That's why I've been avoiding you. By the way, I'm Verena, not Vash."

"You're not Vash?" he questioned, suspicion in his voice. "That is absurd. You look just like him."

"I hate to tell you this, but my _brother_ is on the run from the German police."

"Um… Excuse me, but what's going on?" Toris asked quietly.

"We used to know each other," I explained. "He used to live on the streets with us, but he was too _high-class_ to associate with my brother Vash and me when he was adopted by some rich family for his piano skills. We last saw him four years ago, when he was thirteen, but he hasn't changed much in his pedantic ways, I see. Plus, he was always bossing us around and being a general snob about it, even though we were the ones coming to the rescue when he was beaten up."

"How absurd," Roderich dismissed with a wave of his hand. "It was Verena and Vash who broke off connections with me. I often tried to visit them, going back to the city even after I moved back to Austria, but Vash sent me back and threatened to shoot if I returned."

"Vash did…?" I murmured slowly. It was news to me. "Lilli—an orphan girl we picked up in Vaduz—made me send you a letter stating our address when we settled down in Geneva. Why didn't you mail us back, then?"

"I never received such a letter."

"I told Vash to mail it; of course it wouldn't have been sent," I sighed with a shake of my head. "I suppose, then, all these years of holding a grudge against you were merely the result of my brother's lies?"

"You held a grudge for that long?" Roderich raised his brow, nearly impressed by the dedication. "Just because you thought I was being ungrateful for your help?"

"You weren't just ungrateful for our help," I objected, "but for being a part of our family. We let you into our family and you just tried to take control of _everything_! We were the experienced ones, yet you tried to tell Vash what to do and scolded him whenever he followed his own decisions!"

"You considered me as family?"

"Of course we did! Vash saw something in you and took you into our group. Don't you remember? We all looked out for each other, protected each other, and made sure that each of us had our own fair share at the end of the day. Vash hates to share, I hope you realize, and he would only do such a thing for family. Blood doesn't matter, but solidarity does."

"I did not realize that he thought like that," the other admitted. "I apologize for deserting your family, Verena. I never intended to."

"Really..." I trailed off. It was embarrassing to hear such apologies from the person I thought I had hated. "It was all a misunderstanding. I forgive you for not keeping in touch, at least." I shot a quick glare of warning. "That doesn't mean I like you, you know."

"I wouldn't expect any less from a Zwingli," he chuckled, nodding in acknowledgement. "Then, will you be at school tomorrow?"

"Of course not," I huffed. "From what I've seen, most students are idiots, and I have no use for school."

"You, like, have to come!" Feliks spoke up shyly. He had been conversing with Toris in hushed tones, but he had apparently heard my statement. "World Academy is, like, totes epic, and everyone there is totally nice."

"I've been told that a lot of people are nice. Most of them aren't," I explained calmly. "I'm sorry, but I won't be going to that school. I really must leave now. Goodbye."

My parting words seemed too sobering for the occasion, and my departure too abrupt. There were mumbled objections and farewells as I strode off purposefully that day. It was too strange for me that things could be settled that easily. After all those years, it turned out that the ungrateful little brat wasn't so ungrateful after all. That a grudge could be ended so quickly seemed impossible, something that only happened in poorly-written short stories when the author is pressed for time. Of course, I was nowhere near becoming friends with the man; that haughty air irked me still, though it had at least been suppressed during our civil conversation. With these thoughts on my mind, I wandered home, unaware of the figures following not so far behind, looking in pity and awe at my living conditions.

The following morning, I was awoken by a knock at my door once more. Not wanting a repeat of what I deemed the Arthur Incident, I hurriedly put on my old uniform and answered the tattoo, only to find that it was the shy Feliks, wondering if I was going to school. He offered to stay with me for the day so I wouldn't be lonely, an offer I had to decline. I almost felt sorry for the boy; he seemed to act so awkwardly around me sometimes.

Day after day passed like this. Feliks became much more comfortable around me and his visits grew in length and frequency. He would often tell me what was going on at school, what ridiculous thing Toris had said that day, et cetera. We could almost hold hour-long conversations by the second week. However, something changed; something altered our relationship greatly and permanently in that second week.

One afternoon in the second week of his visits, a great noise came from my door, and I could quickly see from Feliks's panting that he had rushed over with great haste. He stuttered something about big news and collapsed onto a futon I had bought. (The old mattress had long since proven uncomfortable, and I only slept on it when Feliks stayed over.) Fanning himself with a school workbook, he began to speak only minutes later.

"It's, like… the school dance…" he panted, a cheerful grin on his face. "It's a major thing. They, like, open up the entire school so we can party. All the grades are invited, since the school is huge enough for most of us to fit in the courtyard alone. You should totally go!"

"Dances aren't that great," I told him. "It's an idiotic notion, the idea that socialising is inherently a positive thing for all humans. Dances are boring without a date, in any case."

"Is that all?" he laughed. "I could totally find someone for you to go with. I was asked out by Vistoire, that freshman from Seychelles, and she's got some pretty cute friends. Elizabeta is probably your type, too, but she's recovering from her breakup with Roddy."

"Feliks," I started, straight-faced so as to break the news lightly, "are you aware that I am, in fact, female?"

". . . Like, no way, right?" the Pole chuckled nervously after a long pause. "Nena, we've been talking to each other for so long, and you even let me sleep next to you that one time I didn't want to go home. I would have noticed, right?"

"It's a common misconception that you fell for. I am, have always been, and will always be a girl. Most people would be able to tell from my name. Cultural boundaries, I suppose."

His face froze in a cracked smile. With an unintelligible excuse, he swiftly exited my room. My face fell; he really had been surprised at the fact. I had never had to tell anyone that I was a girl; either they didn't know or they found out on their own. I doubted that even Roderich knew. In any case, something had fallen into place in Feliks's mind, and he would probably start to treat me differently. My guess was, in a way, proven the next day when I saw a slip of paper under my door. If only that paper had been blown away, I suppose I wouldn't be where I am now. I believe it was for the better. 

On the paper was written the directions to the third music room in the academy and a command for me to show up in said room at exactly 3:05 that day. Figuring that it was from Feliks, I followed the orders and managed to find my way through the labyrinthine hallways to the third music room. I opened the large wooden door to see two blond, green-eyed students looking expectantly my way; one rather irritated, while the other had a now-familiar grin plastered across his face.

"Nena!" Feliks greeted cheerfully. "Like I told you, you totally have to go to the dance. I brought Artie in to help!"

"_Guten Tag_, Arthur, Feliks. Help with what?" I inquired, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"I am to help in making you a lady," Arthur replied. "So, is this little secret about your gender the reason you've been skipping school, Verena?"

"Not at all, and it isn't even a secret; I merely think that nine-tenths of the students here are idiotic or mad," I answered curtly. "It's a rather idiotic notion, attending classes at a school that will surely drive me insane. Now, what do you plan on doing with me?"

"You're wrong. We're _all_ mad here. I'm mad. You're mad," he quoted, a bitter grin spreading across his face. "Pardon my irrelevance. In any case, I'm here to teach you to waltz. Feliks is here to do something about _that_." He pointed an accusing finger at my uniform.

"I know how to waltz," I responded stiffly. "Not well, but I can."

"Show me."

We practiced for hours in that room, Arthur waltzing with me and making me begin anew at every little mistake. In the meantime, Feliks was on a laptop borrowed from the school, browsing online store after online store in search of the perfect dress. When the session was finally finished, I was made to promise that I would come to the room every day after school to practice. I didn't quite mind the repetition of learning and relearning the steps; the time spent with the two gave a refreshing reprieve from my otherwise prosaic life. For the five days that it took for me to master the waltz, I actually—dare I say it?—had fun.

On the sixth day, Arthur was not there. Feliks beamed that day as he held the dress he had chosen for me: an emerald green dress with inch-wide straps (at my request; I had quite reasonably opposed his decision of spaghetti straps). It was not overly decorated, but bunched together on my left, forming a flower of fabric. At Arthur's insistence, for who-knows-what reason, it had what seemed to me to be a bit too much glitter. It was very elegant, and I had to admit that I rather liked it.

Finally, the day of the dance arrived. Feliks walked with me to the school and into the courtyard until he met up with Vistoire, a tanned girl with long, black pigtails. She seemed childlike in her ruffled yellow dress, a strange comparison to the boy's business-looking tuxedo. I stood nearby awkwardly, unsure of what to do. I didn't want to hang around the couple too much, but what could I do? I would be stranded in a sea of strangers.

"Nena, what's wrong?" the Pole asked, noticing my uncertainty. "Why don't you go meet up with your date?"

"I don't have a date," I replied confusedly.

"Oh! I guess we forgot to tell you. Yeah, he's coming over now, don't worry."

"I believe you were talking about me?" a voice behind me nearly cooed.

"You set me up on a date with _Roderich_. That's just lovely," I remarked sarcastically.

"Now, now. Why don't you just enjoy it? It is your first dance, after all," the Austrian suggested smoothly. Without my consent, he took my hand and began to waltz to the music wafting through the air. He tried to lead me away from the other couple, but I managed to keep myself within earshot as I danced. I noted that Feliks was acting shy again, just as he did around all strangers.

"Are you excited for the final dance?" Vistoire asked awkwardly.

"Y-yeah, I guess," Feliks replied, looking down at his feet.

"…Who was that?" the girl asked after a moment of silence.

"Huh?"

"Who was that girl you were talking to?"

"Oh, that's, like, Verena," he chuckled slightly. I thought his smile seemed to change for a moment, though I suppose it was my imagination. "She, like, never comes to school, though that doesn't stop me from trying to drag her here."

"That 'Verena' is a delinquent, then?"

"I don't think delinquent is quite the word. She, like, isn't used to school since she couldn't afford education until she was fourteen, and the jerks there kept bullying her. That's basically what she told me. I think she's just, like, scared."

"You know a lot about her, don't you?"

"Yup! It was hard to find this stuff out. She doesn't like to talk about back when she was homeless. She hasn't told me anything about before she was five, but I'm, like, pretty sure she remembers back then."

As the conversation grew longer, Feliks's enthusiasm grew. To my embarrassment, it seemed they were only talking about me. I couldn't help but glance at them often, intrigued by the things my friend was saying. I was so distracted that I barely noticed when my own date murmured my name, snapping me out of a trance. He looked hurt, and I felt sorry for him.

"Verena, are you still mad at me for something?" he asked.

"No, not at all," I denied. I decided to admit the truth, and I couldn't hide a smile. "It's nothing. I just can't help listening to what Feliks is saying. He's talking about me like no one's talked about me before. It's amazing."

For a few moments, there was silence between us. I could tell that Roderich was now listening in on them as well. Suddenly, the other couple's conversation ended abruptly as the two began to walk up to us. Vistoire gave an apologetic smile. Feliks looked as confused as I was.

"Roderich, we have to work on our music project, don't we?" she inquired loudly. She looked to me, then to Feliks. "You two stay and dance. We need to do something."

"Yes, our project," the Austrian answered emotionlessly. He sounded as if he was doing improvisational lines for a play very badly. "We must be going."

The two left without so much as a farewell, leaving us alone. We exchanged confused glances. Not yet quite out of earshot, we could tell that Roderich and Vistoire were joking and congratulating each other for something unknown. With a shrug, Feliks offered me his hand and I took it. There was one more short waltz before the final song.

"You and Vistoire make a good couple," I complimented.

"So do you and Roddy," he replied, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "Hey, I'll ask one more time: won't you, like, come to school? It's too boring here with only Toris to talk to. Toris and you are my only real friends."

"Fine," I sighed in resignation. "I'll do it—just for you."

The short waltz ended and we broke our positions. The boy hugged me as thanks for making the agreement. The last song began to play. Students around us immediately recognized the song as Can't Fight This Feeling. I could hear hundreds of students from every section of the school singing—some poorly, some beautifully. Mostly very poorly.

"_I can't fight this feeling any longer, and yet I'm still afraid to let it flow. What started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show._"

From not too far away, I heard the voice of a certain girl from Seychelles hiss, "We gave them the perfect chance and the perfect song! Why don't they just kiss already?"

"I'm not sure love always works that way, darling," consoled an elegant voice. "It might take time. Give it a few days."

I could only smile at their words. It was such an idiotic notion. Feliks and I danced on—until, that is, most of my schoolmates stopped dancing in favor of belting out lyrics midway through the song with exaggerated gestures. There was one thing I could tell about the school. This is how I began and how I will end, with a simple little statement. Everyone at the school is an idiot, but they're the nicest, funniest idiots I've ever met.

_Nena here. The author, you know? I'd like to thank everyone who managed to read through that without banging their head on the wall. This is the first fic I ever completed, and there were some... issues, I know, especially with staying in character and with Vash's portrayal. Here are the translation notes, though I suppose their usage was somewhat self-explanatory._

Sveiki—_Lithuanian for 'hi'_

Guten Tag—_German for 'hello'_

Zamknij się—_Polish for 'shut up'_

_If there's something I missed, a translation error, or critique, whatever, please leave a review and point it out. Thanks for reading!_


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